You Said That You Would Die For Me
by Foxtail-Padfoot
Summary: Ziva/Tony/Rivkin, three part oneshot over Aliyah, Truth or Consequences and my own little tidbit. Set in my mind to RJA's "Cat and Mouse". Major character death. "You said that you would die for me / But you must live for me too..."


**A/N: So this is the first time I have killed a major character. I beat them up quite often, but this was new. And rather fun, I hate to say. Anyway, this is based off the song "Cat and Mouse", by the Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. It's three parts, one from Aliyah, one from ToC, and one that I created.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the characters' thoughts. Dialog is taken straight from the episodes, though I paraphrased it a bit in some places, and I modified the situation for the Ailyah snapshot.**

**** Aliyah

Ziva clutched her arms to her body, taking deep breaths, staring blankly at the stark white wall before her.

This was what she had never expected.

Michael was in that room, lying on an operating table, being saved. Or at least, the doctors were trying to. She knew Tony, and she had seen Michael's injuries. He would not be alive in the morning. She blinked her dark eyes once, getting rid of the stinging tears that threatened to form. She would not cry.

The Israeli looked down, exhaling in one long gust. Eyes closed, she remembered finding him, coming in to see an injured Tony holding her at gunpoint. Tony dropped his weapon, whispering apology, but she did not listen, she ran to Michael, pumping his chest and screaming for Tony to call an ambulance, telling Michael to live, blood soaking her hands, which was a good sign because he was alive but a bad sign because he would die soon. She was already hyperventilating, her breaths coming fast at the same rate with which she kept his heart beating. Ziva did not spare a glance for Tony.

Ziva could not help it, she took in a shaking, choking breath. She slid to the floor, clutching herself tighter. Eyes squeezed shut, Ziva did not even hear the footsteps until the man was right over her. "Miss David?" the doctor asked, pronouncing her name flat but she did not care. "I'm sorry."

No. No, Michael, no. You told me you would die for me, that night in Morocco, you told me you would take my place. But you were never to make good on that, you were supposed to live, _we_ were supposed to live. I think I loved you, Michael, you cannot leave me. You must live for me. I cannot do this, I cannot stay here, not with you gone and _him_ sitting across from me every day… God, I hate you for doing this to me, Tony was my best friend but I _loved_ you, you cannot die. You cannot die, you have to live.

She gulped, knowing her eyes were red and puffy as she looked up and met the eyes of the doctor. She shook her head slightly in acknowledgment of his words. Ziva rose to her feet, walking down the hall to the waiting room where she knew Gibbs was. And Tony.

"Rivkin is dead. Tony killed him." Her voice was flat and raw, tinged with the anger she felt towards Tony, but her back was straight and her eyes were cold. She would not show weakness. Ziva felt herself sliding already back into her Mossad training.

"You saw him?"

"I saw enough," Ziva snapped, losing a bit of her composure.

"Ziva, you have to tell me everything." How could Gibbs' voice seem so warm and calm, like it was wrapping her in a hug that she knew the older agent would never offer himself? At least not right now?

She steeled herself against the temptation to throw herself into his arms and sob. "You will have my IA report on your desk before lunch."

Ziva stalked out, not sparing a glance for Tony, because she knew he was already gone.

**** Truth or Consequences

Tony DiNozzo was staring down the barrel of a loaded gun, and none of his options seemed so great.

Ziva sat in front of him, staring at him in disbelief. She was battered, broken. Begging him to leave her there. Exchange her life, for his and Tim's. That was not how this worked.

His green eyes drank up every detail of her tangled hair, her bruised and swollen face, her bloody lips and slumped shoulders. She was not the same Ziva David that he left on the tarmac in Tel Aviv last May.

Why could she not see that he loved her? That he would die for her, and he would live for her, but he would not live without her?

That was what she was missing. If she would die for him, she had to live for him. They were getting out together or not at all. They were always chasing after each other, cat and mouse, playful like Tom and Jerry normally, but now this? This was more deadly, where if the cat did not catch the mouse then they were both dead. The cat had to _save_ the mouse.

Saleem came charging back into the room, an anxious expression on his face and a wicked knife gripped in his fist. The Arab checked the window as he said they were taking no prisoners. "Oh, well nice talkin' to ya," Tony amended graciously, a smile floating on his lips despite the gravity of the situation. It was his coping mechanism, the jokes.

"No! We are not done here." Saleem grabbed Ziva by the hair, yanking her head back and placing the knife to her throat. Tony's heart skipped a beat, pounding painfully against his battered and broken ribs. His eyes flicked between Tim on the ground and Ziva's wide brown eyes and Saleem's mad expression.

Ziva let out a little gasp. "If they do not check in, their people will come looking for them."

"Ziva, shut up." This was not the plan, either. They could not do this, leave her here, because he knew what she was about to say.

"Kill me. You will need the Americans for leverage." Her brown eyes were soft, resigned and filled to overflowing with desperation as she craned her head to look at Saleem. And avoid Tony's gaze, he suspected.

"I don't make bargains," Saleem gloated, looking at Tony. Saleem was one of those people that appreciated being in a position of power. When something went wrong, like the Caf-POW leading them to him, he flipped his lid. The knife leaned in towards Ziva's throat.

Time to deploy the McGyver. "Do you make pizza?" Tony asked in a serious, questioning tone. Tim moved into action. It went south fast, as Saleem pulled a gun. "Stop! Stop!" he called to save Tim's life. "There's something I haven't told you yet." Saleem rose and approached, a question forming between his brows, gun gripped in a sweaty palm. "I told you about the brains, I told you about the guts, I told you about the muscle… I told you about every member of the team, except myself. The part I play."

"And what is that?" Saleem asked, too curious to not play along, to just leave like he should have. Because he was about to get his in the form of a full metal jacket through the forehead, if Gibbs was there like Tony knew he was. Tony placed full confidence in his boss. They were getting out of there alive. Tony's gaze kept flicking between Saleem and Ziva as he detailed, watching Ziva's face grow more and more confused then clear as she realized what he was doing.

"I'm the wild card. I look at the reality before me and I refuse to accept it." Was that the truth or what. He knew what had happened between him and Ziva, but now, like then, he refused to accept that it could come between them. "Like now, I should be terrified but I'm not, because I keep thinking of the movie True Lies. You know, where Arnie's strapped to a chair and pumped full of truth serum then he picks his cuffs and kills everyone? You have thirty seconds to live, Saleem."

"You're lying. You are bound!"

"I can't lie."

But he could skirt the truth, because he wanted Ziva to know how he felt in all the explicit and heart-stopping, pounding-in-his-throat and sweaty palms detail. He loved her, inexplicably and powerfully so, he loved her.

Why could she not accept that in stride and move on, like she did with everything else? Why could she not see it with her usual ninja clarity, because Tony felt like he was standing on a roof and shouting it to the world? What happened that they were three feet from each other but so far apart?

Then the shot came that saved their lives.

**** Am I supposed to be happy?

It was all she had ever wanted to see him love her, that bright smile on his face laughing with her, but to see her dream she paid this terrible price. And it would never be anything but a dream.

It was not Michael's heart that was pierced with the bullet now, it was not Michael's blood that covered her fingers after she fired a single shot and dropped her weapon, falling to her knees, hair cascading down in a curtain around her face to hide her tears, the salt mixing with the red blood that stained Tony's shirt.

They had been in a warehouse, chasing down a terrorist and Ziva had been distracted when she saw Tony take one to the shoulder. He had never been as good at this as her, not the fighting part of it, and he paid for it regularly with broken bones and flesh wounds, but she never got used to it. She felt her breath lump in her throat as she charged forward to see if he was okay, despite his muffled roar for her to get back in position, there were too many, but he was losing blood… It flowed around his fingers as he grasped his shoulder. She had to make sure for herself.

The man bared his dirty teeth and Ziva did not see as he raised his gun to fire, but Tony did, leaping out and shoving Ziva to the ground. A question ripped from her lips as she yelled in surprise, then there was the crack of a gun and Tony fell to the ground beside her with a dull thud. How could he do this, how could he die for her, she was not worth saving! Not like this! Not in some abandoned warehouse, filled to overflowing with the scum of the earth that were not worth the lead that pumped out of her weapon!

She choked back a sob and kept pumping though she knew it was not worth it. Tony had smiled at her, raising his head ever so slightly so he could cough the remaining air out of his lungs with a laugh and the whispered words, "I told you so," before his head fell back to the concrete with a snap.

He had died for her, and was it worth it?


End file.
